by Merikan,Miss
I closed my eyes not to cry, wanting to disappear. That could be my secret power. Turning into smoke in his hands so that he could never grab me. Instead, I was a woman made of flesh and bone, and wasn’t strong enough to fight him, too afraid of the violence he could unleash on me to scream.
I collected my thoughts, trying not to break down, not in front of him. “You will whenever you want to once we’re married.”
“Oh, really? That’s a different song than what I’ve been hearing so far.” Vincenzo gave an animalistic growl and slipped his hand into my underwear, past the last barrier keeping him away. “You trying to lie to me, baby girl? Your pussy won’t lie to me. I’ll fuck you so good you’ll be a quivering mess.”
It was as if the lower part of my body had become disconnected from the rest of me. I wanted to vomit, but my stomach was so tight as if it were filled with stones. “I’m Catholic. I cannot flirt with you when I’m still married to someone else.”
There it was. The thread I’d been grasping at. I got his attention. Vincenzo cocked his head to the side, but pulled his hand out of my pants and sucked on his fingers as if assessing me in a new light. The shame of it all was scorching my cheeks. “So once Seth’s out of the picture, you’ll open your legs like a good girl?”
I pushed down my skirt, feeling dirty, as if I’d had a cockroach inside me. I could still feel where Vincenzo’s fingers had been, like the insect’s nasty black legs. “We could marry right after he’s gone.”
Vincenzo let go of my neck, and I could finally take a deep breath. Or at least I attempted to, because unclenching my windpipe was a chore I was not prepared for. He unbuttoned my shirt as if my opinion didn’t matter, as if I were a sack of flesh for him to fondle. Vincenzo grabbed my breasts with both hands, and all I could do was sink against the wall, unable to avoid him.
“I’ll get you bigger titties once we marry. I like to see them bounce when I fuck a girl.” He had that leering smile, and I didn’t even feel my body all that well any more. Numb as if I’d bathed in ice.
“Boss? We gotta go. There’s some shit going down,” Emilio said through the door, knocking loudly.
I forced myself to smile at Vincenzo, but the way he so casually talked about making permanent changes to my body in order for it to be more to his taste made me want to disappear. Only I didn’t want to be buried in the nearest woods, so I did what I should and smiled even wider. “That would be lovely. My father didn’t want me to do it, but I agree it would improve my looks.”
Seeing Vincenzo’s smile grow with enthusiasm made the food I’d eaten earlier climb up my throat, but at least he took his hands away from my breasts and I could button up my shirt. “I knew we’d get along.”
The relief of him walking away was so intense my knees went soft. Emilio came in once Vincenzo opened the door for him with the buzzer button.
“We’ve got more men coming for support,” Emilio said, “and I think we might just get those faggots trapped.”
I kissed my two fingertips and brushed them over Vincenzo’s cheek. “Good luck out there.” Go and die a horrible death.
Vincenzo rubbed his hands together, grinning at Emilio. “Let’s go deal with this shit.”
I stayed where I was, tucked into the corner until the two men shut the door, leaving me alone in a room that, for once, seemed to close around me, as if each piece of furniture was out to get a bite of my flesh.
I rushed to the bathroom and, only with the door closed and locked, did I dare to pull off my clothes. My hands trembled so badly I dropped my bag to the floor, but I couldn’t bear to talk to anyone now anyway. I wished I could’ve cut out the pieces of my skin where Vincenzo’s dirty, rough hands had touched me.
What if he really was my future?
Chapter 14
I was still numb when I sat in a booth at the café with Paco, the one Villani soldier remaining at the hotel. But while I sipped my coffee, with my mind aching as if it had gone through a meat grinder, another weight dropped on me straight from the TV screen hanging over the bar.
“There are reports of several dead, and the police are still securing the area,” came from the reporter with a heavy local accent. The more I watched, the colder my fingers got, despite the warm paper cup I held in my palms. A shooting had occurred at the market where Santo had gone earlier.
The reporter in the field interviewed several witnesses, and the blood-soaked puzzle pieces of the story were coming together in my mind.
The perpetrators had been shouting in a foreign language. Someone suggested it was Italian. A chase through the stalls. Injured passers-by. Several gunmen shot dead by their opponents. A victim left on a meat hook inside an abattoir.
The death toll had reached seven people, and I shook. Santo had been in the middle of the shootout, right after the bitter argument that had shown him what a selfish person I was. He’d been right. I’d never asked him what he wanted and just pushed him, trying to manipulate him with compliments like I had with Vincenzo earlier today.
I should have given Santo more credit, I should have been able to see beyond his handsome smiles and protective nature. Clearly, he had issues too, but I ignored them, and now he could be in the hospital, heavily injured.
Oh, God, what if he’s dead?
Paco frowned at the TV, but he barely spoke any English, so he grunted at me, already texting someone on his phone. “What are they saying? What do they know?”
I tried to not show how emotionally torn I was and gave him a brief description of the events. “Maybe you should join them, just in case?” I asked, even though I knew it was not likely I’d get him to leave me be
He rolled his eyes. “Good one.” But he didn’t laugh. “You’re not going anywhere on my watch.”
I frowned at him, and it hit me that nobody needed to tell me that anymore. I knew I was trapped in this hotel, and that I’d stay here even if Paco were stupid enough to join Vincenzo. Not when Santo was missing and I didn’t know what had happened to him. Just thinking about him being hurt made my stomach ache. “Where would I go all alone?”
“Well, not to your fag husband, that’s for sure.” Paco snorted, looking back up at the TV.
I leaned back. “You think you’re so funny? I bet you’ve known him your entire life, and yet you haven’t noticed anything odd about him. That joke is on you.”
“Well, at least I’m not the one who fucked him—” He frowned, as if realizing his comeback didn’t go the way he’d planned.
I let it sink in, not even bothering to comment. I hoped the idea of fucking Seth was now as prominent in his mind as if I asked him not to think of a white elephant.
The bell jingled at the entrance to the cafe, and I looked up. For a second, I was disappointed when my gaze swept over a tall man dressed in faded jeans and a black hoodie worn over a simple black top, but then I noticed at his face, and my whole body relaxed when I recognized Santo. I’d never seen him dressed this casually.
The moment he spotted us, he walked with a purpose.
I took a deep breath and curled my fingers over the hem of my hoodie as he approached. I took him in with my eyes, searching for signs of injury, but he moved just fine.
He was all right.
I swallowed the tightness in my throat, wanting nothing more than to run up to him and close him in my arms, but I couldn’t. We were being watched.
“Paco, Vincenzo wants to talk to you, I’ll take over,” Santo said quietly, and Paco sprung up from the seat.
“Thank fuck, I was dying to take a leak.”
I didn’t want to look at Santo too intensely, but I still met his eyes, needing to know what happened. But what if he hated me now? What if he realized I wasn’t the woman he needed at his side? Were we broken up after the fight we’d had? He’d walked out without even saying goodbye.
Santo sat down in Paco’s place, and I couldn’t help but be attracted to his casual style just as much as to the elegant suits and turtlenecks. My ga
ze drifted to the scar on his neck, and I thought back to what he’d told me about it. How we could carry scars and not be weakened by them.
“What happened?” I choked out, still very much aware of Vincente’s hands on me. Even after a shower, I was disgusted with his touch. Just like when I’d once made myself coffee and then found a dead spider in the espresso. I couldn’t drink any coffee for weeks after.
Santo wouldn’t meet my eyes, and it made my anxiety skyrocket. “They vanished. Acerbi butchered five of our men.”
I slumped in my seat. “Oh, God. What about you? Santo? Are you fine?” I asked, raising my voice slightly when I noticed how pale he was. Maybe he had been injured after all and just managed not to show it?
Only now I noticed two long scratches on his jaw. They weren’t anything to worry about, but I still wanted to kiss them better. My mind was going frantic, imagining the bruises he could be sporting under the T-shirt, and another part of my brain wanted to unload about Vincenzo’s assault on me. To ask for help.
“I don’t know,” he murmured.
I looked at him, baffled. “What do you mean? Are you hurt??” I asked and quickly pushed my cup toward him in case he wanted something to drink.
He did take the coffee, but his movements were slow, as if he were stuck in tar. “I talked to Acerbi.”
“T-talked to him?” I asked, wondering if this was some kind of men’s slang for having a fight.
Instead of drinking, Santo played with the edge of the cup. “And I don’t like what he’s told me…” Each sentence was like a chunk of ice I had to painfully carve out of the block to get more information.
Oh, so it was an actual conversation. It put me at ease, and I glanced toward the door, to make sure Paco wasn’t coming back yet, before gently touching his arm. I didn’t know what was going on, but Santo seemed so drained that my resolve to tell him what Vincenzo did to me earlier was melting like an Iceberg at the equator. “I’m sorry.”
Santo glanced up at me, seeming much younger than he did in his suits, and for once I felt like it should be me giving him a hug and telling him everything would be all right. “I know you can keep a secret, but…can you really? Can I tell you something that will weigh on you in the future?”
I looked at him, completely mesmerized by that display of trust and vulnerability, and I rubbed his hand gently. “I would never betray you, Santo,” I said, and I meant every word of it. The life ahead of me might not be a bed of roses, but I could bear it as long as I had Santo.
“He told me my father wants him alive because he… ‘still loves him’.” Santo’s lips twisted into a scowl. “I…I don’t think he was lying,” he whispered.
I touched my neck, rolling this information in my head over and over, but there was no doubt about the meaning behind what Santo told me. The suggestion itself was obscene, and I wanted to support him even more, in any way he needed me to. “So...your father...he is gay?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled the coffee close, recoiling from my touch. “He’s been married for twenty-five years. I always thought my parents got along, even if they often parted for trips, and stuff like that.” He took a deep breath. “But maybe it has all been a lie. He might like women as well for all I know, but I remember Acerbi being such a permanent fixture around our house when I was just a boy. He must have been fifteen or sixteen. I think I’m gonna be sick. I need to tell someone about this.” He squeezed the cup so hard coffee overflowed onto his hand.
I sat as close to him as was safe, wondering what else I could do for him, but it seemed that no matter how much I wished to help, there was nothing I could do to relieve his pain. “This secret is safe with me.”
Santo massaged his temples, uncaring about the coffee dripping on his T-shirt. “I’ve known not to trust everything my father says for a while now, but this… I don’t even know who he is anymore. I don’t even think I want to know.”
I waited, wondering if he’d say something more, but when he stayed silent, I asked, “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet. But I don’t want to get Acerbi anywhere near him.” Santo bared his teeth. “He’s manipulating us all for a selfish needs.”
“While he’s secretly playing against the rules,” I finished for him.
“He thinks he’s untouchable.” Santo bit on his lips and finally glanced at me again. “Thank you for listening, even if you’re still angry with me.”
I licked my lips, surprised. “I thought it was you who was still angry with me,” I said softly.
Santo sighed and met my eyes. “You are my weakness. You should know that by now.”
The damn table between us was like a wall I needed to climb, but even if I’d managed to do just that, I knew I couldn’t do what I truly wanted—sit in his lap and kiss him until all our troubles melted away.
I swallowed, my body heating up quickly like an electric kettle filled with honey. “But you are mine, too,” I said, looking into his eyes. The thick, warm sensation I always felt around him was now making my whole body feel content. I loved Santo so much, and I’d have done anything to make him happy. He was flawed, but so was I.
“You are the only honest thing in my life,” he whispered.
Not being able to hold his hand was agony. “You are the best thing in mine.”
We exchanged a small smile, but the bell at the door jingled again, and I leaned back against the seat, attempting to be as invisible as possible when Vincenzo approached through the café.
He was heaving, and there was dampness at the front of his shirt despite it being quite cold. He slapped his palms against the table. “That dumb fuck called his mother. We’ve tracked where they are. They’re not getting away again.” Those words were meant for Santo, and Vincenzo paid no attention to me. Of course. I wasn’t important in these matters.
I would only be his prize.
Chapter 15
Paco was like a dangerous animal that snuck into your home. We couldn’t get rid of him, and his presence prevented me from talking to Santo despite the growing need inside my chest. At least I was in the backseat, hidden by shadows as we drove deeper into the countryside with only the headlights to guide us.
The navigation system pointed us to a location, but we passed it, at loss when none of us could spot a lone house with an old school mailbox at the front of the driveway. Only after a few more minutes of moving at a painfully slow pace, the metal box on a pole emerged from the darkness.
Paco, who had earlier sat in the driver’s seat of Santo’s car as if the vehicle belonged to him, pulled into the driveway and followed it all the way to the dark, old house at the edge of the woods. Three black cars were already there, and my throat tightened with discomfort at the thought of what could be happening inside.
Vincenzo was the first one to get out of the other car, talking to someone on the phone, with a wide grin and excitement plainly visible in his quick movements. Paco opened his door and left, but Santo followed his example, leaving me alone in the car.
Vincenzo waved at him dismissively once he turned his phone off. “Stay with the girl and let the grownups handle it.” He snorted and patted Santo’s arm, as if Santo was supposed to be in on the joke.
My teeth clenched with anger, but if that meant Santo would be out of harm’s way—that he could stay with me—I was glad about Vincenzo’s decision.
Santo didn’t argue and went back into the car, moving to sit behind the wheel. We watched the dark silhouettes of the other men move about in silence until they all disappeared behind the front door, which must have been unlocked before we’d even gotten here.
I hugged the other front seat before getting to my feet and taking a step above the transmission to sit next to Santo. He glanced at me, but I couldn’t read his face. The dark shadows on it made it even more obscured, as if he was too far away for me to reach.
I didn’t want to think of what Vincenzo and his men were about to do to Seth. No matter how much I want
ed by husband gone from my life, I’d gotten past my initial anger. I didn’t want him to be physically hurt or dead.
“What happens now?” I asked quietly, savoring the silence around us and hoping it would not be disturbed my screams soon.
Santo took a deep breath. “Unless either of them is Houdini, this is the end of the line.”
I exhaled, smoothing out non-existent creases of my skinny jeans. I felt numb, but at the same time, the drive here had given me a lot of time to ponder all the things that had happened recently. About the possibility of people dying because of me versus my own comfort. It was the end of the line indeed. “I was trying to weigh my options. I can’t be so frigid all the time. And you’re right, Vincenzo can be manipulated to some extent,” I said, unable to keep from scowling when I remembered his hands on my breasts.
Santo turned his head toward me, as if I’d woken him from a dream. I smiled at him. It was time for me to face the reality of becoming Vincenzo’s wife, and keeping my relationship with Santo secret. If he didn’t want to make his move, I could not manipulate him into doing it. It wouldn’t have been right.
I exhaled, looking at the dashboard illuminated by the faint glow of the moon. A light went on in one of the windows, a single eye in the dark face of the house. “He got very aggressive today. But it helped when I pretended to like him. I made him believe the only reason I was rejecting him was the fact that I was still married.” I took a deep breath, cuddling up into my hoodie as the car slowly grew colder. “Maybe it could work. Your Father has the most experience with all this, doesn’t he? If he thinks Vincenzo should indeed become the new boss of the Villanis and you agree with that... I’m fine with it. I’m sorry I tried to push you into something you don’t want to do,” I added in a whisper, resigned to my fate. Vincenzo would surely get bored of me anyway. Soon enough, I wouldn’t have to be around him all that much anymore. It would be all right as long as I could be with Santo as well. I could take another scar or ten. They would not destroy me.